DE WITT'S ELOCUTIONARY SERIES. PRICE 15 CENTS EACH. Young people who were desirous of acquiring a practical knowledge of the beautiful, as well as highly useful art of Reading and speaking correctly and elegantly, have found great difficulty in procuring boohs that would teach them rather in the manner of a genial friexd than an imperious master. Such books we here present to the public in"De WiWs Elocutionary Series.'' y,,t only are the selections made very carefully from the abundant harvest of dramatic literature, but the accompanying instructions are sc plain direct and forci- ble that the least intelligent i an lastly understand all the rules and precepts of the glorious art that has immortalized Roscius ami Kean, Chatham and Henry.. ■■■■■■■"■■■■ " '■'■ " ■ "■ ■■ No. 1. THE ACADEMIC SPEAKER. Containing an un- usual vaiiety ot striking Dramatic Dialogues, aud other nw-i effective Scenes. Selected with givat cue ami judgment from the noblest ami wittiest Dramas, Comedies, ami Farces most popular upon the best i-tages. Interspersed with such able, plain and practical criticisms ami remaiks upon Elocution ami sta e effects as to render this work the most valuable hand-book to the youug orator that has evei been product d CONTENTS.— General Introductory Remarks ; On the quality ot Selections; On True Eloquence ; On Awkward Deliver ; On Necessity ol Attentive Study; On Appropriate Gesture; On the Appearance of Ladies upon th • Stage ; The Stage and the Curtain ; Remarks upon the subject of Scenery ; low to ea-ily Construct a Stage ; Stage Arrangements and Pr perties ; Remarks upon improvising Wardrobes, etc., etc. There are Twelve pieces in this book that require two Male Characters ; Six pieces that tvquire six Male Characters; Two pieces that require four Male Characters. No, 2. THE DRAMATIC SPEAKER. Composed of many very carefully chosen .Monologues, Dialogues arid other effective Scenes, fiom the most famous Tragedies, Comedies and Faices. lnteispersed with numerous Directions and Instructions for their proper Delivery and Performance. CONTENTS.— There are tlkree pieces in this book that require one Male Character One that re- quires three Male Characters ; Ten ihat require two Male Characteis ; Nine that require one Male an I one Female Characters; Four that requires three Male Characters; One that re- quires two Male ami one Female Character Ow that requires two Female Characters ; One that lequireseme Male and two Female Character-. No. 3. THE HISTRIONIC SPEAKER. Being a c^refnl compilation ol the most amusiug Dramatic scenes, light, gay, , uiuled. wiity ami spark- ling. Selected from the most elegantly written and most theatrically effective Comedies and Farces m on the English aud American Stages. Properly arranged and adapted lor Amateur and Parlor Representation. COXTEXTS.-nrff of Die pieces in this book require tiro Female Characters; One piece re- quires Keren Female Characters; Nineteen pieces that require one Male and one Female Characteis; One piece that requires one Male and ttco Female Characters; One piece that requires two Male aud one Female Characteis. No. 4. THE THESPIAN SPEAKER. Being the best Scenes from the best Plays. Every extiacl is preceded by valuable and very plain observa- tions, teaching the youug forensic student how to Speak and Act in the most highly approv- ed manner. CONTENTS-— Fibs of the pieces in tbhj book require one Male, and one Female Characters ; Three of the pieces require three Walt- Characters ; Three of the pieces reqt#e tico Male and one Female Characters ; Seven of tins pieces reqjireiura Male Characters ; One of the pieces re- quires owe Male and one Female Characters; Tvso of the pieces require two Male aud two Female Characters : Out o'f tlit pieces requires /oitr Male and four Female Characters ; Three of the pieces require three Slale and one Female Cuaracteis. *** Single copies sent, on receipt of price, postage free. Address, Robert M. Ee Witt, Publisher, 33 Rose St,, N, Y. i Bet. Ilunne and Frankfort Sts. FREE! FREE!! FREE!!! tar An immense Descriptive Catalogue of the Best Novels, the Uest Song Books, the Best Music aud the Best Plays, unequalleJ and uuattainable elsewheie, mailed free upon application to R. M. DE WITT, Publisher, 33 Rose Street, New York. Y -""HARRY KERNELL'S "ECCENTRIC IRISH" SONGSTER. CONTAINING THE VERY ESSENCE OF IEISH WIT AND HUMOR IN THE FORM OF JOLLY, CHAEACTEEISTIC, LUDICROUS, COMIC, AND SEMI- COMIC HIBEENIAN SONGS AND BALLADS, AS SUNG TO IM- MENSE AND EAPTUEOUS AUDIENCES BY THE IMITATIVE BUT INIMITABLE HARRY KERNELL, The Champion Irish Singing Humorist. INCLUDING AL90 THE ORIGINAL SKETCH, WITH MUSIC, ENTITLED r " THE WHISTLING THIEF." TO WHICH ABE ADDED THE FOLLOWING FOUR PIECES SET TO MUSIC EX' PRESSLY FOR THIS WORK: A VIRGIN ONLY 19 YEARS OLD.Composed by HARRY RJCKARDS. THE SCAMP, Composed by LANCE MAJOR. UP A TREE. Composed by HARRY CLIFTON. ALL THE WORLD AROUND, Composed by R. P. STEWART. &7*t/lf&d_ NEW YORK : ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, No. 33 Rose Street. (BETWEEN DUA5E AND FRANKFOBT 8T8.) OOPTKIOHT, 1875, BT ROBERT M. L>E WlTT. CONTENTS HARRY KERNELL'S "ECCENTRIC IRISH" SONGSTER. PAGE. Alderman Flynn 20 All the World Around. Music. 56 Boulevard (The) 16 Beautiful Boy (A) 39 Boston Beans 42 Broth of a Boy is Paddy (The)... . 44 Bold Irish Soldier (The) 60 Clarence McGowan's Troubles 4 Casey's Whiskey 54 Chap in Number Nine 55 Capt. Kelly's Medley 58 Cot in the Corner (The) 59 Dublin Policemen 33 Digging for Gould 50 Dear Ould Sod 52 Dermot's Farewell 53 Flannel Mouth Mick 18 Funny Little Tailor (The) 30 I am so Glad 10 I'm -what you Call a Military Man 17 Irish Blades '../.. 27 Iligant Wake (An) 46 Jar Down Everybody 10 Just Like John 29 PAGE. Just Landed 31 Kalamazack 19 Laboring Man (The) 21 Mrs. Casey's Raffle 22 Rising Politician 32 Opinions of the Press 3 O'Shaughnessy Guards (The) 7 Origin of Lreland (The) .w . . . 9 Pay for the Last Round 26 Parade of the A. O. H 28 Stars in de Sky 5 Song and Dance 6 Scamp (The). Music 24 Seldom-Fed Brigade (The) 35 Sligo Musketeers (The) 38 There's a Bottle on the Mantel. . . 23 Two-Cent Sail (A) 34 Terrible Example (A) 40 Terry Malone 53 Up a Tree. Music 36 Virgin Only 19 Years Old (A) Music 48 Why don't You Hire a Hall ? . . . . 8 Whistling Thief (The). Original Sketch and Mu-ic) 11 Bard of Armagh (The) 43 BS5~ The Music of all the songs in this book can be obtained at any music store in the United States or Canada. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. * 7 TMr. Hakry Kernell, in the North of Ireland dialect, his anecdotes, songs and dances, is an original piece of business, and has no successful imitator. — Louisville (Ky.) Paper. One of the really first-class features was the Irish dialect of Mr. Ker- nell. — Chicago Evening Post. Harry Kernell introduces an entirely new feature in the variety busi- ness, and merits the many encores, he receives. — Minneapolis (Mo.) Paper. One of the greatest features of the- entertainment was Harry Kernell, who sung, danced, and talked in the North of Ireland dialect until his au- ditors were fairly aching at the sides from laughing. He retired amid much cheering.— Ottawa (Ca.) Paper. Mr. Harry Kebnell making his Obeisance. — This gentleman is the most accomplished Irish comedian we have ever seen — having the brogue and accent to perfection, though he has never seen the " Dear little Isle." In fact, he takes pride in claiming another nationality. He kept the house in a continuous roar of laughter.— M ontreal Canada. Last, not least, a new candidate for public favor has made a decided hit. Mr. Harry Kernell is a more than average representative of the rare North of Ireland comedian ; and dances better than any of the leading men iu his line. — Cincinnati Enquirer. " Harry Kernell, who sings, dances, and talks in the North of Ireland dia- lect, is very funny.— Baltimore Paper. Harry Kernell is original, and everybody liked him. — Washington Paper, Mr. Harry Kernell is the best stage Irishman we have ever seen. His ebulitions of humor seem to he the natural overflow of a joyous spirit, and not the studied gags so common to the stage, to laugh at which requires a painful effort on the part of the hearer. We have often sat and witnessed attempted portrayals of the characteristics of d fferent nations, and have felt in duty bound to laugh. We we*t to be amused, and felt that the privilege of laughing was included in the price of admission ; but every muscle in our face was pained in the effort to fulfill our obligation. In witnessing KernelVs Irish Comicalities, the inclination to laughter was spontaneous and irresistible, and the only pain we experienced was in the endeavor to control our risibilities. — Phila. Sunday Mercury, May 10, 1875. But next to Tony Pastor, Mr. Harry Kernell— a North of Ireland come- dian—provoked more mirth and immoderate laughter than any of his fel- low performers. He has the accent beautifully, imitates the actions of his subject well, and rolls out an immense volume of witty sayings.— Ottawa, (Ca.) Paper. Harry Kernell; in his ten minutes of fun and laughter, made the audience roar. — Toronto, (Ca.) Paper. Mr. Harry Kernell, Negro comedian, made his first appearance, and made a decided hit. He is equal to any in his line of specialties that ever ap- peared here. His dialect imitations of the old darkey at camp-meeting were perfection, and brought down the house.— Syracuse Standard. Harry Kernell is the favorite of the troupe, receiving round after round of applause as he goes through his songs, dances, and imitations.— Pitts- burgh Evening Le.adtr. Mr. Harry Kernell was particularly well received, his Irish character 5 sketches convulsing the audience with laughter, and bringing down the house in storms of*applause. He is the best in his line ever seen in Balti- more. — Baltimore Evening News. Harry Kernell proved himself a splendid Irish comedian, and a fine ,„ dancer. — Cincinnati Enquirer. ■ Tony Pastor, Gus Williams, and Harry Kernell, are the big favorites of ~ the audience.— Phila. Evening Item, Aug. 27, 1875. Harry Kernell is as comical in his sketches as it is possible to be.— Boston Z. Post. But one of all who took down the house, was Harry Kernell, in North of Ireland talking and singing. His make up, dialect, and action were true ... to the life, and one of the most droll characterizations we have ever wit- nessed. — Meriden (Conn.) Standard. Harry Kernell should devote himself entirely to Irish characters ; there is no finer stage Irishman in the variety business than he.— Pittsburgh Evening Leader. CLABEJtfCE McGOWAN'S TKOUBLES. Aia.— " Sold Everywhere." Sung by IIabkt Kkrnell. Herb I am, an Irishman, From Ireland I came ; I landed in America, And here I will remain. I had to struggle hard at first, And I don't think it was fair — No matter what I tried to do, I was sold everywhere. Spoken. — No matter what I tried to do, I couldn't get along. I once opened a cheap music store ; a fellow camte in one day and asked far a ballad called " Act on the Square, Boys ;" and I turned my back to him to get it, when he stole a four dollar fiddle, and ran out. I took my girl to a party once, and at the supper table I asked her if she liked cod-fish balls ? She said ehe didn't, nor she never attended one. But it's the same story, I was — CHOUUS. Sold, sold, e^very where, Alas ! I have been sold ; Sold here, sold there, The half has not been told. Sold right, sold left- It ain't no use to try. No matter what I try to do, I am sold everywhere. I went out once to a menagerie, To see the animals jump ; When a monkey came bouncing out of a cage And gave me an awful thump. I immediately grabbed him by the tail, His tail it then came loose ; And a little boy was standing by, Said, " Glue it on, you goose !" Spoken. — I couldn't elue it on, and I was arrested for cruelty to orphans. I worked for a man once — the meanest man I ever saw. He was so mean, he used to talk through his nose ; afraid of wearing his mouth out. He was so mean, he got married on tick ; and he has been living on tick ever since. He got on a steamboat once, and when the captain came around to collect the fare, he jumped overboard. He walked ashore in fifteen feet of water. He was such a sponger he drew the water all up, and walked clean ashore. Once he hired two Chinamen to blast (1) 5 CLARENCE McGOWAN'S TROUBLES.— Con- cluded. rocks. They put in too much powder, and the rocks blasted thein fifteen feet up in the air. When they came down, he took it out of their wages for the time that they were up. Sold, sold, etc. Wherever I go, I am bound To pluck misfortune's bitter fruits ; And find myself sold everywhere, Except about the boots. Come, Fortune, turn your wheel again, And be a little fair ; And give a good turn for one Who's been sold everywhere. Sold, sold, etc. STARS IN DE SKY. Burlesque Camp-Meeting Sono. Written and sung by Harey Kernell. Gabriel, blow dat silver horn, Oh, my hallaleuah ! We beat the debbil, sure as you're born j Oh, my hallaleuah ! We are going to glory bv-and-by. Oh, my hallaleuah ! 4$ We will meet de angels near the sky. Oh, my hallaleuah 1 chorus. * De railroad train am passing through, De world am getting out of view ; The sisters dey am going, too ! I will meet you by-and-by — by-and-by. Every star in de sky had a number, Number one, number two, number three; Good Lord, by-an-d-by — by-and-by. Good Lord, ,by-and-by. What makes the debbil hate me sol Oh, my hallaleuah ! He had a hold on me, but he let me go, Oh, my hallaleuah ! So look out, sisters, and bar in mind, Oh, my hallaleuah ! If he does catch you, he won't treat you kind, Oh, my hallaleuah ! De railroad, etc, (2) SONG AND DANCE. Aie. — " Martha Jane Barew. " Written for Harrt Kernem, by E. McCcrdy. There was a man named Pat McCann, He courted a girl named Mary Ann, He loved her very dearly, yes, he loved her as his life, He dressed so gay ©n Patrick's day — He popped the question right away — And asked this little darling if she would be his wife ; Oh, to cry then she began right before this handsome man ; " Arrab," says she, " you're the biggest blarney I met in all my life,' r said Mary Ann to Pat McCann ; '' Go away from me, you naughty man, Or else I will tell my mother, and she'll surely have your life.** CHontrs. Oh, handsome Pat McCann loved his purty Mary Ann r Every evening he would take her out a-walking, He would buy her an oyster stew and molasses candy, And the way he used to kiss her was so shocking. Said Pat McCann to Mary Ant?; " You are my darling jewel, And if voks will not accept my hand I'll go and end my life." Said Mary Ann to Pat McCaun, " I love you mors tj^feauy man, And ratber than reflate your hand F1I be your loving wife." h, he bought her then the ring, And many agother purty thing; he bought her silks and sa!>*»* Enough to last her life; and although it was Lent To church Shey went to ask the father For his consent to marry this loving couple, And make them man and wife. Oh, handsome Pat, etc. How Pat McCann and Mary Ann Are as happy as salt water clams ; The divil a couple in all the land With hearts so full of joy, for some time last spring A little thing dropped in one day to hear Pat sing, It's nice to be the father of a bouncing baby bay • Now they're lake turtle doves, They are happy in their loves, All cares and sorrows an* unknown, all troubles M*ey defy j I wish my name wa< Pat McCann, You would be my Mary Ann ; I would hug and kiss you, darling, and be married by and by. Oli, handsome Pat. eta- THE O'SHAUGEDOTESSY GUARDS. Written by William Welch. As simg by Misa Adah Richmond and Harby Kbkhsix. Two brare boys in our new uniform, Proud are we when we shoulder our guns; We see flags and banners floating, As we go marching down Broadway. Then right face about. {Symp*} CHORTTS. Then we hear the drums a-beatlng, And the snuste sweetly play, As we go marching down Broadway Upon St. Patrick'soday-ay-ay! We are out on a parade do you see, Cousin Mike and me — We'll march away, well march all day, Come and join our company. The beautiful girls all throng the sidewalk, And ware their hands to our company • They always throw us wreaths and bouquets, And give three cheers for Biddy and I. Then right face about. Then we hear, etc.. Now come, all young men, that's fond of fighting, And roll your names in our company ; All son-ows and woes we'll send a-kiting, And fight for fun and liberty. Then we hear, etc. WHY DON'T YOU HIBE A HALL P By Gbobok 8. Kxight. I came out here when very small, The time I don't know when, — At first I did not know so much, But I'm smarter now than then ; I keep a liquor store down town, Where all the hoys did meet, And the funny things to me they said To you now I'll repeat. CHORUS. Why don't you IrVe a hall ? Oh, say go shoot, that hat — I commence to think you are too fresh ; Go jump in some salt vat, — Don't talk us all to death ; Oh, tumble, do now, Ned, — Cheese it now — give us a rest — Swim out r you're over your head. I soon commenced to see and know What everything they meant, And that the business didn't pay, I couldn't make a cent ; So then I put my foot right down, I likewise told my clerk To tell them fellows when they'd come That business wouldn't work. Why don't you, etc. THE ORIGIN OF IRELAND. COMIC RECITATION. With due condescension I'd call your attention To what I shall mention of Erin so green, And without hesitation I'll show how that nation Became of creation the gem and the queen. 'Twas early one morning without any warning That Vanus was born in the beautiful sea, And by the same token and sure 'twas provoking, Her pinions were soaking and wouldn't give play. Old Neptune, who knew her, began to pursue her, In order to woo her — the wicked old Jew — And almost had caught her, a top of the water, Great Jupiter's daughter, which never would do. But Jove, the great Janus, looked down and saw Vanus, And Neptune so hainous pursuing her wild, And he spoke out in thunder, he'd rend him asunder, And sure 'twas no wonder for chasing his child. A star that was flying hard by him espying, He caught with small trying, and down let it snap j It fell quick as winking on Neptune a-sinking, And gave him I'm thinking a bit of a rap. That star it. was dry land, both lowland and highland, And formed a sweet island the land of my birth ; Thus plain is the story, that sent down from glory, Old Erin asthoie is the gem of the earth. Upon Erin nately jumped Vanus so stately, But fainted kase lately so hard she was pressed, Which much did bewilder, but ere it had killed her, Her father distilled her a drop of the best. That sup was victorious, it made her feel glorious, A little uproarious I fear it rai^ht prove ; So how can you blame us that Ireland's so famous For drinking and beauty, for fighting and love. 10 JAR DOWN EVERYBODY. End song, sung by Harry Kbrnell. I saw a jay bird on a limb, I turned around and winked at him, I took my gun and aimed at him, Shot him in de leg, left de marrow on de limb. chorus {Repeat.) Over in de Monegeholo, Over in de Aliegahnny, Jar down everybody, everybody jar down, Jar down every body, jar, jar, jar down. I had a horse, his name was Jack, I rode his tail to save his back ; Oh, how that horse would rear and kick, I coaxed him along with a hickory stick. Over in de Monegeholo, etc. Bullfrog dressed in soldier's clothes, Went down to the riber to shoot some crows, Crows smelt powder and dey flew away, Bullfrog he was mad dat day. Over in de Monegeholo, etc. I AM SO GLAD. A Burlesque Camp-Meeting Song. Sung by Harry Kerneix. I am so glad, I am so glad, When the old ship Zion was passing by. I am so glad, oh, you will land on de Canaan shore ! You rise up in de morning, And you look up yonder in de sky ; And dere you see the eagle's nest, And yar de young ones cry ; I am so glad you git to glory by-and-by. If you get over to Jordan, And you don't see me over dar ; Send me a ring for a token of your love, Likewise a lock of your hair. I look way over yonder, And what you 'spect I see 1 A great big angel on de boom of a ship, A beckoning along to me. I am so glad, You get to Jordan by-and-by I 11 THE WHISTLING THIEF. [Copyright, 1875, by Robt. M. DeWitt.] A SKETCH FOR TWO OR THREE CHARACTERS. {Scene, a cabin, window open, Cliair, table, &c. If nece* 9ary, the character of tlie old lady may be personated by Pat. A dress thrown oner his costume, and a cap, which can be easily removed, may complete his attire.] [Enter Mary, singing.] When Pat comes over the hill, his colleen for to see, His whistle, loud and shrill, the signal was to be. " Mary ! " my mother cries, " there's somebody whistling, sure." " No, mother, its only the wind, that's whistling through the door, That's whistling through the door." [Pat, outside, whistles " Garry Owen."] Mart (listening).— Oh, that's the dear boy. Now if I only can keep him here unbeknown to my mother. [Enter the Mother, with a crutch.] Mother. — Mary dear. Mary, I say. Where are you 1 Mart. — Here, mother dear. What is it you're after want- ing with me? Mother. — Didn't I hear somebody whistling, Mary? Mart. — Sure, it was the wind, mother. Mother sings. I've lived a long time, Mary, in this wide world, my dear ; But the wind to whistle a tune like that I never before did hear. Mart sings. But, mother, you know the fiddle hangs just behind the chink, And the wind upon the strings of it is playing a tone, I think ; Ifl playing a tune, I think. (1) 12 THE WHISTLING THIEF.— [Continued.] [Pat, outside, barks like a dog.] Mother sings. The dog is barking now, and a fiddle can't play a tune. Mary But, mother, you know that dogs will bark when they see the moon. Mother sings. But how can he see the moon, when you know he's old and blind ; Blind dogs can't see the moon, nor fiddles be played by the wind, Nor fiddles be played by the wind. [Pat, outside, imitates a pig.] Mother sings. And there now is the pig, oneasy in his mind. Mary sings. But, mother, you know the saying, that pigs can see the wind. Mother sings. That's all very well in the day, but allow me, miss, to re- mark That pigs, no more than ourselves, can see anything in the dark, Can see anything in the dark. Mother. — So, so, my daughter ; get out wid your excuses. You can't decave your ould mother. Mary. — But, mother dear. Mother. — Oh, go 'long wid ye. Mother sings. I'm not such a fool as ye think, I know very well it is Pat. [Goes to window.] Get out, ye whistling thief, and get along home out of that ; (2) 13 THE WHISTLING THIEF.— [Continued.] And you, miss, be off to your bed ; don't bother me wid youi tears ; For though I've lost my eyes, I haven't yet lost my ears, I haven't yet lost my ears. [Exit Mother, shaking her crutch at Mary.] Pat {at window). — Whist, Mary mavourneen ! Darlint, ar» you there ? Mary. — Yes, Pat ; but be aisy, me mother is wide awake. Pat. — Oh, bad luck to her — I mane, God bless the ould woman. [Climbs through window.'] Mary. — Oh, I know she'll hear us. If she does, sure she'll be after breaking every bone in your body. Pat. — What do you suppose I'd care for that ? Mary. — Don't come whistling round the door any more, Pat. You ought to know better. Pat. — Sure, I'll whistle now if you don't stop me mouth wid a kiss from those rosy lips of yours. Mary. — Oh, go along wid yer blarney. Pat. — Well, if you won't give me one I'll stale it. [Kisses her.] Mother (outside). — Mary, Mary, come in ; what kapes yei so long ? Do you want me to come and fetch yer ? It's bed* time an hour ago, sure. Mary. — Pat, go quick ! Pat. — Bedad, I will. Good-bye, darlint. [Kisses her.] I'll go outside the same way I came in. [Jumps through the win- dow.] Mary. — I'm coming, mother dear. [Enter Mother.] Mother. — Is it all night you'd be after staying up ? Come, along, yer ungrateful girl. Sure, yer head's so full of that whistling thief, Pat, that yer can't rest. Get in wid yer. A Mary. — Yes, mother. [Kisses hand at window.] [Exit Mother and Mary.] Pat (leaning on window-sill). — When I oome again, bedad, I'll come wid a still tongue in my head. Take my advice : (3) 14 THE WHITTLING THIEF.— [Continued.] Pat sings. Now, boys, don't courting go too near to tlie house, d'ye mind; Unless you're certain sure the old woman's both deaf and blind ; The days when they were young, forget they never can, They're able to tell the difference 'twixt a fiddle, pig, dog and a man ; A fiddle, pig, dog and a man. THE WHISTLING THIEF. [Copyright, 1868, by Oliver Ditson & Co.] Published by permission of Oliver Ditson & Co., owners of copyright. Lively.. 1 1 J 4 4 - Harp. (\ N PS is. ! *. - --—i-^ 3~ m — U— -# — * 1 1 1 H— ^=*=&= When Pat comes o - ver the hill, bis [ 1 N =g1— # 1 kjj — o- ^ col - lecn for to see, His whis - tie, loud and \-4r^rt *EEE£ shrill, the sig - nal was to be. £— f-Szfai :?: :t=:: Ma - ry ! " my moth - er cries, " there's some-bod- y i-vT T- - r l C iT f * p *—? r - l—U 9 - f-| •> y 1 £ p hj ? H -L _| L_* y_ y y ^ K— -* whist - ling sure.' No, moth-er, it's on - ly the (4) THE "WHISTLING THIEF.— [Concluded.] -K- wind that's whist - lino; through the door, That's ^mmm *—i . m \4 * whistling thro' the door. Garry Owen — To be whistled or played after 1st verse. Sva. -*=j * 91 'fff-HZrW n ! T\ 1 0- M -0—0 ^ - -- 1 ^~ * — ^- H — I -3 : ! «k: —*—d 1 — i — r 8va. 3^ «=t m-*-0—9 «- =j=nri — fv -#-3 -« sra , _ - r -W. -W-^ Ik /* . — f * j f — Jr f -*— hn h- H «*" ' 1 ^ ^ 1 ^^ J _i 1 £= 1 8ra. ^-#^ :^^E5 ; # -«— ^- -g- 7%^ complete music of "The Whistling Thief," mM A THE SCAMP; OR, THEY CAN'T HOLD A CANDLE TO MB. Written by Hexry Pettitt. a ^=£=J: Composed by Lastce Majob. *-* ^f =3 I flat - ter roy - self I'm a rogue, And ££=£ can -did - ly own I'm a cad. A sharp, a if rn — r— K r -fs — is — ^ — h — fs— £ leg, a va - ga-bond, And ev - ry thing else that is I Zh^l-i — -*-—*- ±=dbz Z-* ^r-4 bad. I proved to my i K it— 1*- fc: ^— pa -rents a bane, A r— 1 h N-t — (S N K — p — k — ?s — n n — J— lj= ij_j<_j ^ ± J i—i-i-Lja J -4-1—0 '-%— > * * per- feet young fiend to my nurse; And ev - e - ry 1 l 7 f if - J — h— rrf-j K d ^ zS _+=*_* 3=±-^% i^t-t=~~ live, I'm get - ting from 1/ — bad to worse. Oh! if there was ev er t h -»,-£ B* ;=^^=^ m^ scamp, I flat - ter my-self I am (1) From 2b THE SCAMP.— [Concluded.] rf I i -* — 0-— + — 5- William the Norman to Brigham the Mormon, They < N N k. ! S £ 1 s=nu£ can't hold a can - die I was leader in mischief at school, Though always so humble and meek ; And when I discovered a chance of rewawf, I was always informer and sneak. By the evil example I set, Other boys into mischief were led ; But I always managed to pocket the spoil, And get other boys wolloped instead. — Cno. When a man I went into the world, I plundered the helpless and poor; Yet always got off with a snug little sum, When it came to a question of law. I started benevolent funds, And spouted at Exeter Hall, I started loan offices, hospitals, clubs, And finally swindled them all. — Cho. In the City my name I keep up, And swindling comp'nies promote ; Yet always creep out with the bulk of the fund*, Before it's found out it won't float. I'm an alderman, and as M. P. To stand I've received an invite ; And if I get in, why, my party I'll sell, And Gladstone will make me a knight. — Cho. (2) / PAY FOR THE LAST ROUND. Am.— " Wait till the Moonlight/ 1 Down in the Fourth Ward on a pleasant little corner, I compliment myself I own a liquor store ; It is not a place like where Jack Horner Eat his Christmas pudding, but a far superior place. It is not a cafe — it is not a palace, It is not a dew drop inn, or any such a place ; We are not at all gall us — we do not take taffy, But always look a man square in the face. Spoken. — Yes, I have a fine saloon now. But I have a great time with the young fellows that frequent my saloon. A man came in the other day and asked for a kerosene cock-tail. Says I, " Maybe you want a coal-oil lamp punch V Says he, "I'll punch you, if you come out from behind the bar." Says I, " Me young stripling, if I walk around there and hit you with my left hand, I will fell you like an ox." Says he back then to me, " You have too much chin flbr a terrier ;" and says I, " You have too much lip for a bull pup." But he sat down and called for a glass of porter. He didn't pay for it, and when he called for another, says I — Pay for the last round, that's what you called for, Then you can have anything you want ; But until you do, sir, the next one you call for, I will bet you five dollars you'll get the bounce. My wife was a German before we were married, Her name it was Katrina. or something of the kind ; We live about as quiet— we never do get flurried, She's a thoroughbred you can bet your life, and I am glad she's mine. She is not a dandy, or a cologne water daisy, She's very neat and hardy is my mistress Jane O'Doyle; We are a couple to admire, if you knew her you would say, We don't set the world on fire, but always pay our way. Spoken. — Last week I took in some boarders, and I have had no peace since. One was a circus actor, and he took the feath- er bed in the cellar, and be heavens he commenced practising pyramids on it. The other was a Negro actor, and done noth- ing but yah yah here, and yah yah there. When I asked him his name, says he, " I am Cully, the cutter !" and I hear since (1) 27 PAY FOR THE LAST ROUND.— Concluded. it is Jimmy Rodgsrs. Divil the cent of board have they paid since they came. The other mornjng I told them not to be so familiar with the butter, that there was good molasses on the table. Says they, " Oh, shoot the molasses !" Says I, " Don't do that ;" and when the meat is put on the table, they make a glam at the lean and leave the fat for the other boarders. But I will get rid of the boarders as quick as I can, and start a lunch bar. I asked my wife the other day if she liked oysters'? She said " The only oyster she ever ate was a clam, and it made her sick." But you can bet any man comes in my saloon only cheats me once, for I say — Pay for the last round, etc. IRISH BLADES. Sung by Murphy and Moston. We're two roving blades from old Killarney. And the pretty colleens call us bouncing Barneys ; We're the Irish boys' can tip to tltem the blarney, And dear old Paddy's Land, that's our home, do you mind ; Just a few years ago we took a notion For to take a trip across the briny ocean ; Our hearts were all in a commotion, Since we left that little isle so far away, do you mind. For we are ever bright and gay, singing, dancing all the day, This caubeen of a hat we're ever wearing, Although we are from our homes afar, Our hearts are ever there ; No Land we'll ever see can ever wean Our love from dear old Ireland. When we landed in Columbia's nation, Among the girls we caused a great sensation ; We're the happiest Irish pair that's in the nation, And dear old Paddy's land that's our home, do you mind; When at night the bright eyes are glancing, For the colleens fair you will always see us dancing, We are two Irish boys that's always fond of prancing, And to please you sure that is our aim. For we are, etc. (2) 28 PAKADE OF THE A. O. H. Written for Harry Kernell by G. A. McCtjrdy. A i»— " Connemara Coockoos." I'm a gay young chap from Erin and they call me Dandy Pat, I wear a green regalia, a harp, and shamrock in my hat ; I joined the Ancient Order; we're the boys that looked so gay When we marched in the procession on last St. Patrick's day, And oh, such music, such music, such music as we had all day, Such music, such music, how sweet the bands did play. Hugh Maginnis was chief marshal and he rode a fine white horse, With a sword and sash beside him, oh ! boys he was the boss ! With a smile on every feature, and a uniform so gay, The ladies all smiled on him as we marched along the way, And oh, such winking, such winking, such winking as was there that day, Such winking, such winking, they winked the livelong day. 'Twas just below the common we fell into the line, With flags and banners flying, the day being nice and fine, The band played Garry Owen and then the Mulligan Guard ; And we carried the harp of Erin beside the stripes and stars. And oh, such tramping, such tramping, such tramping as was there that day, Such tramping, such tramping all through the mud and clay. When we marched in open order faith 'twould make you laugh to see The little stick leg cripple keeping step with Mick Magee ; When we come before the marshal's house they brought us to a halt, And they gave us just ten minutes for to go and get our malt. And oh, such whiskey, such whiskey, such whiskey as was drank that day, Such whiskey, such whiskey, the bar-rooms made it pay. Then when we were disbanded as quick as you could wink We all bounced down to Kelley's for to have a drop to drink, The whiskey punch flew lively for the liquor was so rare, In less than fifteen minutes divil a sober man was there. And oh, such drinking, such drinking, such drinking as was there that night, Such drinking, such drinking, the boys got awful tight. Mike Connors and Pat Cronin then got into a dispute, Mike said his hat was finest, and Pat slapped him on the snoot, Then broken heads were plenty, the blood ran freely there, Myself and long Dan Oarty had to waltz off on our ear. And oh. such fighting, such fighting, such fighting as the boyi had there, Such fighting, such fighting, 'twas like an Irish fair. 29 JUST LIKE JOHN. Sung by Matt Whbbleb. Dey held a camp meeting down in de swamp, Going to Jerusalem just like John! It was so dark dey had to have a lamp, Going to Jerusalem just like John ! De preacher preached long, den he preach loud, Going to Jerusalem just like John ! He preached so bad he scared de whole crowd, Going to Jerusalem just like John ! When I die I want to 6e ready, When I die I want to be ready, When I die I want to he ready Going to Jerusalem just like John ! Oh, sisters, what make you so cranky 1 Going to Jerusalem just like Jojjn ! You got as much chance as Moody and Saukey, Going to Jerusalem just like John ! When de horn blows we'll be dar, Going to Jerusalem just like John ! To climb upon de golden stair, Going to Jerusalem just like John ! When I die, etc. 30 THE FUNNY LITTLE TAILOR. Composed and sung by Pat Kelly. There was a jolly tailor once that I knew well, He kept a little tailor shop and had pantaloons to sell, Neck-ties, broadcloth, and everything like that, And anyone could tell he wore a very funny hat ; It wasn't very low nor it wasn't very high, It had a peculiar look that would quickly take the eye. He wore it on Sunday and every day in the week, And it always looked glossy, for he kept it very neat. He was the pride of the ladies and the envy of the boys ; Wherever he would go he wpuld never make a noise ; He was as light on his feet as a canary on a tree ; He was bashful, he was neat, and as happy as could be ; Whenever there was a party he was sure to be there, With his tight pantaloons and glossy curly hair ; He could talk, dance, sing, and wink, and everything like that, But no matter where he would go he wore his funny little hat. He went to a party one night where there was lots of fun, He got rather tired and sleepy from drinking rum and gum ! They put him in the corner to have a little doze, When the boys found it out they put a cork on his nose, And they all yelled " Fire!" with a terrible shout; But he quickly jumped up and quietly put it out ; He took his little hat and walked to the door, iLnd he bade them all good-bye, and they never saw him more. • 31 JUST LANDED. Aib.— "I Couldn't Stay Away." We came from Connemara A few short months ago, With spirits light and airy, Two emigrants, you know ; Pray let us ask your pardon, Smile on us if you choose, We come to Castle Garden, We're the two Irish cuckoos. CHORUS. For we've just landed, just landed, We landed over there, you know ; We've landed, just landed, We're the two Irish cuckoos. i Cutting turf was our occupation In the bogs of Allen then ; But they say that in this nation We'll at least be aldermen ; . We'll run for big positions In offices of note, We'll join the politicians. And of course for us you'll vote. For we've just, etc. When we go back to Ireland, Sure, then it will be said We'll raise up in our sire-land The green above the red ; Then all this world will glory Whene'er they hear the news Of Ireland and the story of The two Irish cuckoos. For we've just, et«. 32 THE KISING POLITICIAN. Written and sung by Hakbt Bennett. Good evening to ye all, I've come to make a call, And tell ye of my victory Upon election day. I ran for alderman, And Murphy was the man Who tried hard to defeat me, But he gave himself away ; He never tried repeatin', And that's the way I beat him — I voted seven times myself In the ould Fourth Ward so gay. CEORUS. Now I'm a politician, I hold a high position I gained by repetition Upon election day. I took the gang around Where the free lunch could be found, And many's tho plate of soup, my boys. Did they put out of sight; We swept the district clean, And the divil such a scene Was known in New York city, boys, Upon election night ; Cigar signs, barrels, boards we burned When the victory it was earned It gave me satisfaction and It filled me wid delight. Now I'm a politician, etc. And now I'll tell to you What I am going to do ; I'll not forget the workingmen, To them I will- be true ; They shall have eight hours a day, And a fair amount of pay, And live as well as those big bugs Upon Fifth Avenue ; Sure I'll improve the city, For I think it is a pity That poor men should be starving When there's public work to do. CHORDS. So let ye all be merry, And don't ye vote contrary, And I will show ye, one and all, What an Irishman can do. 33 DUBLIN POLICEMEN. We're rattling, roaring Irish boys, Come over here to join the force, man ; To protect the peace, keep down the noise, There's none can do it like us, of course, man ; In our suit of blue there are but few With us can come the Irish dandy, And if the boys kick up any noise, Sure we run them into the cell quite handy. CHORUS. Tearing away, (Symp.) Always at war and never at peace, man, Tue ral a loo, (tymp) We're a pair of the Dublin new policemen, i There's not a gate nor garden wall About the town but what we scale it, And if anything there we find at all, Wouldn't we be flats if we didn't nail it 1 Next day there is a hue and cry, Something stole, but to be brief, man, And by the hookey, who but ourselves Is running about to cotch the thief, man ! Tearing away, etc Supposing, walking about all night, In every hole and corner creeping, Something we spy by the pale moonlight; Arrah, by my soul, it's a gintlcman sleeping, His pockets we grope, his money we take, Then with our sticks on the ribs we're jobbing him, And if perchance the poor soul should wake, We tell him we thought a thief was robbing him. Tearing away, etc. 31 A TWO-CENT SAIL. Written and sung by Hakkt Bennett. The other night, while feeling bright, I thought I'd have a racket ; The thought itself was good enough, But I'd no stamps to back it. I went to take a two-cent sail, To keep my spirits merry, But now I wish that I had died Before I crossed the ferry. With lively boys and witching girls, I tell you it was merry ; I never shall forget that night A-crossing on the ferry. I paid in} 7 fare and jumped aboard — The weather it was breezy ; I didn't care for' wind or rain, For I am free and easy ; And I began to think and think About Beecher and Frank Moulton, When all at once I felt a bunk, And then a fearful jolting. With lively boys, etc I felt a crash, and up I jumped, There was a fearful clatter ; I looked about, and then went out To see what was the matter. A sal was yelling murder, and She was a fearful screecher — I saw a man fall overboard, She said that it was Beecher. With lively boys, etc. Then overboard I quickly jumped To try and save the preacher, Because I thought it would he great To rescue Henry Beecher ; But when I struck the water, oh ! You bet it set me screaming ; I found that I had been asleep, And jumped overboard while dreaming. With lively boys, etc. 55 THE SELDOM-FED BRIGADE. Words aud Music by Harry Bennett. We are the Seldom-Fed Brigade, As you can plainly see ; We often have to miss our meals — With us it don't agree. One meal a day is all we get, For that we have to fight, Oatmeal for breakfast, wind for lunch, And a walk around at night. CHORUS. We're the Seldom-Fed Brigade, For fighting we're not paid, And for our grub we get a club — That's how our soup is made ; If soon we are not paid, We'll have to makfe a raid, To drive away starvation from The Seldom-Fed Brigade. If we could strike a hash mill or A lunch route on the street, You bet our baskets we would fill, We'd show you how to eat ; We'd pulverize a restaurant, Or clean out a hotel ; If we can't get a square meal, why, Just let us take a smell. We're the, etc. Wind pudding's all we get to eat, Of that we're awful sick, And if we ask for other grub, They'll hit us with a brick ; We'll soon be healthy skeletons — Our clothes are getting loose ; Oh, if you want to see us bust, Just chuck us down a goose. We're the, etc. 36 UP A TREE. By Harry Clifton. You see be - fore you one who's been in life through ma - ny a chang-ing scene, And yet with - al a lit - tie green, of course, I know it now: Although I've been un-for - tu-nate. you 5: J 4 *r=£ ^=5= will al - low me to le - late That once I owned a large es-tate— 'twas then friends used to bow; "Dear Jack,old boy," they theD would say, "I'm proud of such a meet-ing! How do you do? Where have you been ! You're look - ing well, I see;" But > _ N > > - ^» J> r=N — _$ ■ m . & — ^ — N — * 1 £: ^^^Tj^ ^^ -w — #- now they've grown so very shy they can't af-ford a greeting; In /7\ vul - gar phra - se o • gy, be - cause I'm " up a tree. 1 ' U) 3? "UPA TREE."— [Concluded.] Ch«rus. Fd friends in great va-ri - e-ty, who courted my bo -ci - e-ty; j I s. N *. •' Came to dine, drank my wine, shook my hand with glee— I might -S A fc- walk from now til] Whitsuntide, but when they see me, oS they glide And *> ^ |S > IK 1 » ■%r '. * * ' » - • g ^ ^ T * -*- i» • pass me on the oth - er side, be - cause I'm "up a trees' 1 I onee could give good dinners, ah, 'tw&s then the hungry sinners Would haunt my tabie daily, praise my judgment, jokes and wine ; Join iu eon vivialiiy, accept- my hospitality, Until, through prodigality, my fortune -did decline. And so did they, for one by one they left me in my glory, A friend I stood in need of, but not one could I see; My mooeyM gone and so had they -, well, 'tia the same old story, So while you have it, keep it, or you'll soon be u up a tree." Chorus : — Yd. friends, &c I once eould drive my four-in-hand, had money, too, at my command. Could " do the grand," you understand— how foolish I have been! I stand here to exemplify " sweet uses of adversity," To prove my friends in poverty — acquaintances, I mean: Better times will come again, a lesson 'twill have taught me — u Preserve me from my friends," for the future it shall be ; I've paid for my experience, tho 1 you see to what it's brought me, I'm a " sadder, yet a wiser man," although I'm " up a U-ct? Choeus: — I'd friends, &c 6S THE SLIGO MUSKETEERS. Words and Music by Harry Bennett. Oh, let ye stand from under now and open wide your ears, While we relate the story of the Slij^o Musketeers ; Sure, whin we landed on this soil out West they made us go, And we worked at canaling on the Oh — ho — ho; But whin the war it did break out it took our job away, We organized a company and wint into the fray ; We fought the ragged rebels, boys, for many a weary day, But they couldn't bate the Sligo Musketeers, cnonus. With our ha, ha, ha, ha, hay foot straw, we marched across the plain, And many's the time we thought we'd never see our homes again ; The rebels fought like divils, but their fighting was in vain, For they couldn't bate the Sligo Musketeers. We fought wid Banks and B\irnside, and wid Grant we took a hack, But the best of all, tho' he was small, was gallant little Mac; Faith, if they'd let him have his way, he'd quickly drive them back, If assisted by the Sligo Musketeers ; Sure he knew how to engineer and likewise to command — No matter what your station was he'd take you by the hand ; He looked so noble on his horse when he was in command Of us fighting boys, the Sligo Musketeers. With our ha, ha, etc. But now our lave of absence, boys, is very nearly spint, We'd ax ye all to have a smile, but we're without a cint ; On Erie shares and all such snares our money it is lent — It completely broke the Sligo Musketeers ; We'll say, "Good evening, one and ail," your pardon, too, we crave ; We did our duty manfully this country for to save ; May the shamrock and the stars aud stripes in triumph ever wave O'er the fortunes of the Sligo, Musketeers. Willi our ha, ha, etc. 39 BEATTTIFUIi BOY. Air—" Darling Ould Stick. It was one winter's day, about six in the morn, When a little innocent creature was born ; There was doctor and nurse, and a great many But none of them saw such a baby before. They all swore I was like my papa, " Yes. and see, there's the uose of his mamma "With a few alteratious, oh. la, 1*, . We'll make him a beautiful boy." " To make him a beauty," cried out Mrs. Sneer, " We'll be troubled unless the child has a sweet leer." Then to give me this leer Mrs. Glazier arose, And a piece of red patty stuck bang on my nose. This made me to wink and to blink so, The ladies knew not what to think, oh, And at last it turned into a squint, oh, Which made me a beautiful boy. To niaKe me accomplished, I wanted one thing, My mouth was too small for the/dear child to sing, Then to stretch it and spread it they all of them tried, Till they stretched my sweet mouth nearly half a yard wida Crying : " Pull away now, Mrs. Eider, It must be a little bit wider.'" My dear month they split pretty high, sir, All to make me a'beautiful boy, Now, being complete, I was next sent to school, And to show off my make, was stuck on a'high stool, When the children went home, they cried out with surprise: * We have a new boy at school with such beautiful eyes} He can look any way so handy, Such a mouth he has got to sack candy ! And his legs are so preciously bandy, They call him the beautiful boy." T'other day I was asked in the city to dine. The ladies, in raptures, all thought me divine; And all, when observing my elegant grace, Neglected their dinner to look at my face. They cried : " I shall faint with surprise 1 No gas-lights can equal his eyes, And such a mouth for mince-pies! Law ! ain't he a beautiful boy?" Now. ladies, beware of Love's powerful darts, For fearful I am 1 shall steal an your hearts, And then, you dear, sweet little creatures, you'll sigh, And doat on my charms till you languish and die. For, you know, I cau't marry you all, Yet, believe me, whenever you call, My endeavors will be to please all, Although such a beautiful boy. 40 A TERRIBLE EXAMPLE. Words and Music by Joseph P. Sb.ei.ly. The Music of this song is published by E. H. Habdino, 220 Bo-oraw, *Jew York. Price 10 cents. Copyright, 1875, by E. H HabcinG. McGee was a jolly old Gobbler, He came from the divil knows where ; Of whiskey, he was a great gobbler, And delighted to go on a " tare." He was often persuaded to alter His habits, and live like a man ; But whenever he tried, he would falter. And go back to his bottle and can. McGee was a terrible man, He was always so flighty and frisky ; He tried to reform, but he couldn't ke«p warm,- Sure, he'd die if he hadn't his whiskey. His wife was a dacent ould woman, And scolded frora v mornin' till night ; She told him he must be inhuman To be keeping them in such a plight. He would listen in scorn and derision, And drink just as much as before ; Till at length she gave out her decision To begin on a temperance war. McGe* t«s. etc She went to a temperance preacher And stated the case of McGee ; He promised to help the poor creature — " I'll go over next mornin'," says he. When he came, the old cobbler was roaring A song, with his glass in his hand ; Twas the glass he was fond of adoring, And he seemed hardly able to stand ! McGee was, etc. " Dear Misther McGee," said his rev'reuoe, " I hope you will alter your ways ; I've come now to give you deliverance From the evil that's blighting your days !" " 'Pon me sowl !" says McGee, " I am ready, I'll stop with the greatest of cheer ; But I fear I can never be steady While a dhrop of good whiskey is near." McGee was, etc. m 41 A TERRIBLE EXAMPLE.— Concluded. " Fear not," said the man of cold-water, " You'll show us how good ycmxian be ; The demon of drink we will slaughter, And we'll honor the name of McGee." Then he promised to keep at a distance All drinks of whatever degree ; " Noble man, you shall have our assistance — In a week the result we will see." McGee was, etc. Spoken.- — The reverend gentleman, after some further per- suasions, took his departure, and Mr. McGee at once became a strict disciple of temperance. The sudden change of life had a severe effect upon him ; he lost all his exuberant spirits, be- ing entirely under the control of his wife and the temperance advocates, who filled his mind every day with solemn lectures, and worked him into such a queer state — half comfort, half de- spair — that he would often say to himself, "Begob, I'm not meself a*, all !" At last they induced him to state in a public meeting the various benefits he had derived from his adherence to the pledge — the comfort, the happiness, the great joy and peace of mind he had experienced during his short season of sobriety He attended the meeting, and with a ver} r grave countenance, related his experience as follows : RECITATION. Good people, 1 stand here before you to-night, Me mouth very dhry, and me head very light ; It's three weeks to-day since I joined in the ranks Of the Wather Brigade, I left off me ould pranks! And ever since then, sure, me life has been blessed With a great many comforts, and nights of good rest. I paid all me debts, and I bought a new gown For the wife of me bosom — a beautiful brown — I took from the pawn shop me foin Sunday coat, "Which cost me last winter a ten dollar note, And put a new sole on the ould woman's shoes — A moighty big job, for she wears " twinty-two's I" I made a new sty for the fine little pigs, And fixed up the garden with bushes and twigs ; 1 wint to a lawyer and made out my will, My duty to all I was bound to fulfill. And yesterday mornin' (don't think that I'm scoffin'), I bought for me body an illigant coffin ! For 1 know if my whiskey is taken from me, You'll very soon make a dead man of McGee. • (2) 42 BOSTON BEANS. As sung by Ed. Fbench^^ Sheridan, Mace & Day's Grand Combina- tion. Ahl— " Spring, Gentle Spring." Beans, beans, Boston baked beans, Served up red-hot on a Sunday morn ; Beans, beans, Boston baked beans, Is a fit dish for a queen, sure as you'.re born j Whenever you come to Boston town, Have some one to show you round ; Smoking red-hot upon the plates — Yes, how I love those Yankee dates ; You may talk about your good clam chowder, Talk about your whiskey sour — CHORUS. Give me beans, beans, Boston baked beans, Served up red-hot on a Sunday morn ; Coffee, sugar, bread, and cream — It's a fit dish for a queen, sure as you're born. Cheese, cheese, Limburger cheese, Floating so gayly and sweet in the breeze ; \ Cheese, cheese, Limburger cheese — , Bring me a dish of sweet Limburger cheese ; ^ At Miller's saloon I take my ease, And revel on lager and Limburger cheese •, There is good, and for all of that, For it gives you such a sweet breath ; Talk of love in Cupid's hours — Talk of a balm of a thousand flowers — CHORUS. Cheese, cheese, Limburger cheese, Floating so gayly and sweet in the breeze ; Cheese, cheese, Limburger cheese — Bring me a dish of sweet LimburgeY cheese. 43 THE BARD OF ARMAGH. A* sung by Ned Harrioan. ! list to the lay of a poor Irish harper, And scorn not the strains of his old withered hands, But, remember those fingers, they once could move sharper, In raising the merry strains to his dear native land, It was long before the shamrock, dear isle, lovely emblem, Was crushed in its beauty, by the Saxon's lion paw, And all the pretty colleens around me would gather Call me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh. How I love to muse on the days of my boyhood, Though four score and three years have flew by them, It's king's sweet reflection that every young joy, For the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men. At a fair, or a wake I could twist my shillelah, And trip through a dance wid my brogues tied with straw, There all the pretty maidens around me would gather, Call me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh. In truth I have wandered this wide world all over, Yet Ireland's my home and a dwelling for me, And oh, let the turf that my old bones shall cover, Be cut from the land that is trod by the free ; And when serjeant death in his cold arms doth embrace. And lull me to sleep with old Erin-go- bragh, By the side of my Kathleen, my dear pride, oh placa m, Then forget Phelim Brady, the Bard ©f Armagk. 44 THE BROTH OP A BOY IS PADDY. "Written and arranged by Bi lly Ashcroft. Air.— " The Boys of Kilkenny." On, there's not in ould Ireland a boy half so free . As bould Paddy Flynn — he me sowl, and that's me ; At breaking the hearts of the girls I am A 1, And at breaking the heads of the boys, beat by none* At breaking the skulls of the boys, banged by none, " Aib.— Sally, come up," At making lore, sir, Pat's the boy ; 'the ladies' hearts can't I decoy 7 Sure don't they gambol, kiss, and toy, And galivant with Paddy ; And then so shy I wink my eye, Awhile the darlint creatures, ay. Aib.— " Be ai3y, ean't you, Paddy V Paddy can stuff the blarney down, Paddy can grief in whiskey drown, And crack a bottle, joke, or crown, Such a broth of a boy is Paddy. Air.— " Lowback Car." Last night I went a courting, And met with a mishap ; At Judy Riley's windy I went to give a rap : But bad luck to the cistern Poor Paddy stood upon, (1) 45 THE BBOTH OF A BOY IS PADDY.— Continued. 'Twas like the tricks of politics — Not to be depended on, For no sooner had I put The sowl of me iligant foot On the lid, than it slipped, And whish ! — in I was dipped Souse head over heels in the butt. Air.—" St. Patrick's Day." Faith, so many I've admired, I'm getting tired Of courting the smart little lasses at all ; I've tipped 'em the blarney, but spite of me blarney They've bid Paddy (bad luck !) good morning ! I've kilt all my rivals again anc). again, And nine times for love it's meself that's been slain 1 Wid grief I am laden, for fear an ould maiden I'll die without wedlock adorning. Air.—" The Ould Bog Hole." So now, who'll marry a nate Irishman ? For a lady I'll do all iver I can ; I'm not very rich, but I'm born to good luck, I've a cow just died and a dropsical duck ; I'm expecting a fortune, and sure it won't fail To come — when the income tax they repale. Shall I spake to the praist to make it all right, And order for music a piany fortnight ? Who'll wed a boy from the Emerald Isle ? Who'll on the suit of a bold Paddy smile 1 Who'll send a letter me grief to beguile 1 To Pat Number One-ty-one Lower Turnstile. Who'll wed a boy, etc. (2) AN ILIGANT WAKE. Air.—" ttarling Ould Stick/' Sung by Billy Ashcroft. In Dublin, that city of riches and fame, A shoemaker died, Jerry Flynn was his name, The neighbors all grieved, rich and poor, high and low, And to the wake of poor Jerry resolved for to go. Spoken. — Poor Jerry! Though he often half-so\ed shoes, he was a whole-souled man himself, and raany's the job he done for nothing, He mended Tim Reilly's brogans, and pegged Mrs. M'Carthy, and gave her a new patch on her upper, an' all for sixpence; so no wondher they all came to his wake. Tim Donohoe wint for a coach for the ladies ; he stuffed the fine soft straw feather bed in the bottom of Con Casey's wheelbarrow ; he smoothed down the long feathers for fear any of them might stick in the ladies, and hurt their — feelings, as he handed them in. CHORUS. Mrs. Casey and Mrs. O'Blaney, Kate Nolan and Widow Delaney, An 1 the iligant Jtifdy M'Shaney, To go to the beautiful wake. All dressed out so neat in their best Sunday clothes, Wid Doherty showing his jolly red nose, And another big party about twenty score, All met them a knocking at Jerry Fly mi's door. Spoken. — " Mis. Flynn ! Mrs. Flynn i why the blazes don't you open the door 1 Here's the quality coming to Jerry's wake. Stick him up slantinclickler in the bed ; clap, a clane pipe in his mouth and put a nightcap on him, that he may look nate and dacint. Mistress Biddy, will you shake some clane straw in the corner for the company to sit down on? There yees are all now as snug as a bug in a rug. Come, now, Darby Reilly, while Nelly's mixing the punch, will you just tip us a bit of a son« ?" " Faix I will, mam ; I'll give you a verse from the Opery of Go to the Divil and shake yourself." "Silence! Pat Doyle, I'll run a sod of turf in your gob if you don't hould your tongue. Darby Reilly is going to sing ; silence." (Sings in a drawling tone.) Air. — " Raging Canawl." Oh, once I never thought I'd be In this dejected state, A poor, forlorn effigy Bound down by hardship's fate. (1) 47 AN ILIGAJMT WAKE.— Continued. The birds that flatter on yon tree, With terror strike my heart ; Aich star I see alarums me — Oh, why did I des-art '{ S?«ken< — " Oh, wow, ow ! I can't bear to sing any more, it's too distressing for my delicate nerves. Missus M'Nulty, will ye thry a song, mam?" " Thoth I will, Darby. Here goes." (J/>s. IL^Nulty sings.) Och ! one evening for dervarsion's sake As I walked out alone, I heard a fay male lady bright Making her piteous moan. She wrung her bands and tore her hair, And to herself did cry, Aarrah, Johnny dear, don't murther me, For if you do I'll die. Sfoxen. — Here's Nelly wid the -punch, now hand it round to Mrs. ]\rCarthy and Mrs. Blaney, Kate Nolan and Widow Delaney, And the beautiful Judy M'Shaney, And all at the iligant wake. Now the whiskey went round till they couldn't agree, Who was of the best rank or the best family ; They from words came to blows, and their fists didn't spare, And by handfuls they pulled out each other's hair. Spoken. — Oh, ladies! ladies ! aren't you forshamed av your- selves, to behave like a set of jackasses ! Oh Judy, Judy ! Judy! Divil roast me but they've got Jerry in amongst them ; they'll bate the life out of the corpse. Here, catch hoult of his toe and pull him out of the scrimmage. Haul away, here. We've got him out. Oh, bad luck to me, but they've give h>m a black eye. The brutes! to murther a poor dead man that way! Oh, he'll never set over it ; give me the broomstick, tih I bate them ail out, every one of them not excepting Mrs. Casey and Mis. O'Blaney, Kate Nolan and Widow Delaney, And the red-headed Judy M'Shanef, And all at the iligant wake. (2) 48 A VIRGIN ONLY 19 YEARS OLD. By Harry Rickards. As was out walk - in£ one night near the Strand. I met a fair 3 dam - sel all hooped up so grand, She had feath-ers and fi - ne - ry, and Sym. — teen years old I (1) 49 A VIRGIN, ONLY 19 YEARS OLD. [Concluded.] Her fingers were taper'd, her neck like the swan, Her nose was a turn-up, and her voice not too strong ; In three weeks we were married, and the wedding bells told That I'd married a virgin — yes, a virgin, only 19 years old! The wedding-party broke up, and we retired to rest, But my hair stood right up when my bride she undress'd ; For a cartload of padding my young bride did unfold, A thing rather peculiar, very peculiar, for 19 years old ! First, she took off her right foot, about a foot wide, Then she unscrewed her left ear and laid it aside, Then she pull'd out her right eye, on the carpet it roll'd; Thinks I, here's a virgin — what a virgin, only 19 years old I Next she unscrewed her right leg as far as the knee, Then pull'd off her fingers, I counted just three; Then on her left shoulder a large lump I did behold, So I said, there's a virgin — yes, a virgin, only 19 years old ! "When she wiped off her eyebrows I thought I should faint, And scraped from her thin cheeks a cartload of paint ; When she pull'd off her black wig then her bald pate soon twid That she was an old virgin, an old virgin, more than 19 years oid 1 When she pull'd out her false teeth, I jumped up in terror, For her nose and her chin very near stuck together, From the chamber I stepp'd it, never more to behold This virgin not nineteen, — no, not nineteen, but 99 years old I Now, young men, take warning, e'er to chui-ch you go, Be sure your wife's perfect from the top to the toe, Or you'll pay for your folly, and like me be sold By some patch' d-up old virgin, cruel old virgin,'bout 99 years old (2) DIGGING FOR GOULD. Darby Kelly below in Killkenny did live, A sketch of whose character I'm going to give; He was thought by the people a green polished rogue, He could wastle the whiskey, or wastle the old brogue; All kinds of diseases with herbs he could cure, He'd interpret your dreams to be certain and sure, By the boys of the village he often was fool'd ; ]For aslape or awake, he was dreaming of gould. Fol de dol, TTf 3 J=si EE * #-^3 love should do. 4 fc Here a - mong her chii - dren, -\ »— # 1— r Here on ] - rish ground, And near and far, 'neath Chorus. i 1 # 1 N-, — I , 1 j--, . . - d — r % • m -&,-» \ «h^-- M — M R 1 -"*^ -i — k — - 2 -3 --M -J « J J— J 1 • 1 ^ « 1 ^_ 1 f_ z-0—0 # — J sun and star, All the world a-round. 1—4- — . , , . . M — 4-r All the •Id :feSzi -Jt=3t=j£ V I round, my boys, All the world a - round ; Bj land and — 1 — h r 1 1 M-r* L_^ •- rs , -1 ^ —3 — J — J—* — ? — * — i J — gj • y ' H-J- bi— *=faH-i— 1 — r £-£±*l-=h sea, wher - e'er they be, All the world a-round. (1) 57 ALL THE WORLD AROUND.— [Concluded.] Where are prayers for Ireland, Breathed soft and low — Earnest prayers and tender, Asking God to send her Peace and joy and splendor, Ending all her woe ? They are heard wherever Ireland's sons are found, From snow-clad lands to tropic sands, All the world around. Cho. — All the world around, my boys, All the world around ; To heaven they rise, through all the skies, All the world around. Where is aid for Ireland, If the need should be ? If a foe oppress her, If a wrong distress her, Men who would redress her, Where shall Irelarid see ? Here, in crowds uncounted, Here such men are found, And friends as true, not faint or few, All the world around. Cho. — All the world around, my boys, All the world around ; Fond hearts and bold, she may behold, All the world around. Yes, beloved Ireland, All so dear thou art, Where young men, or hoary, Tell of Brian's glory, Where O'Neill's sad story Thrills through many a heart ; Where Emmet's speech is spoken, Where Moore's sweet songs resound, Where fond acclaim greets Grattan's name, All the world around. Cho. — All the world around, my boys, All the world around ; There's help and cheer for Ireland dear. All the world around. (2) 58 CAP1-. KELLY'S MEDLEY. Hark ! I hear an angel sing, In the cottage by the sea ; Give me back ray wedding-ring, Sally is the girl for me. Put me in my little bed, Where the foaming billows roll ; I have not got nary red ; Johnny, come fill up the bowl. >• Let me like a soldier fall, When the bloom is on the ryo ; Waiter, bring me one fish-ball, How is that, old boy, for high 1 Susey stole my heart from me, And she put it up the spout; Johnny's on another spree, That old tiling is about played out. Mary had a little sheep, ! Great on eating mutton-pies ; Mother, I came home to sleep, Wake me up, when Kirby dies. 69 THE COT IN THE CORNER. Song by \Vni F. Sinclair Lawlok, in tho laughable sketch of Barney and the Ghost, as performed by Chas. Mac Evoy'b original Hibeniicou Troupe. Och hone, wirraslrew, how hard is our lot, The landlord has turned us out of our cot, To us in this world 'twas tho happiest spot, On the hill-side beyant in the corner ; The roof was thatched over with bright yellow straw, And the walls were as white as the snowflake agra, Oh it was a fine picture a painter might draw, From the boreen beyant in the corner. It was pnrty without, it was tidy within, On the shelves, shone like silver, our plate made of tin Which cast some reflections when sunlight stole in, On the dog and the cat in the corner; Of bacon, galore, we had many a flitch in The wide mouthed chimney, that yawned in the kitchen, Oh 'twould make your mouth water, and eager to pitch in To the names that hung high in the corner. And there by the fire my mother would knit, And close to her side my ould father would sit. What stories he'd tell when his dudeen was lit, While he smoked away in the corner; When supper was over the neighbors dropped in, And by the turf fire each roasted his shin, While the boys and the girls ne'er thought it a ski For to hug and to kiss in the corner. When Jimmy the piper walked in on the floor, The young people all made a rush for the door, Dragging Jimmy along to the barn, and sure They placed him high up in the corner; Then at it they went dear with hearts light and gay B And danced the night hours into the young day, 'Till Jimmy got drunk an' no longer could play, For he lay pipes and all in the corner. """ ' GO THE BOLD IRISH SOLDIER. Air : -" Girl I Left Behind Me." A raw recruit, och shure is me. I enlisted in Phildelaphy, Field Marshal soon I came to be, Tip top of the Union army, Oh, what pleasure an' oh what joys, 'Twill Le to gain promotion. I've a taste for fighting' anyhow, boys, An' a better one for the lotion. Arrah \ an' ain't I, sure, fond of the lotion. Look at the bloom on the top of my nose. Ain't it beautiful. But the worst of it is it is always runnin' an' the divil a bit can I stop it, and that's not military, is it lads ? It wants a rum puncheon (punching). I should think that would do it. But enough. I'll leave my nose alone an' go on wid my tale. Well, afther I took the bounty, I enlisted and got dhrunk to the tune of — CHORUS. With spirits gay I'll march away, All dangor to be scorning ; I could fight all night till the break of day, An' come home quite fresh in the morning. Now I an' another an' a good many more. Had to sirip an' show our figure, An' be well examined by Dr. O'Moore, Afore we could pull a trigger. The Docther patted us on our backs, Say he, " None can be prouder, Tez can give an' take some thunderin whacks,, An' yer mttlin stuff for powder. 1 *7/z>y^-y -^ ■OUtrt, SfrWfr? 4,Fd t g* OUr^l^ut CETTHEBEST-.T ceTTHEBEst *£$* Copies of any of the following Books sent, postage free> on receipt of price, to any part of the world. Address ROBT M. DE WITT, Publisher, No. 33 ROSE STREET, (Between Duane and Frankfort Sts.), NEW YOBK. Webster's Business Man; or, Counting- House I orrespondent. 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